


Everybody Should Do It

by dragonspell



Series: Everybody Does It [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-30
Updated: 2009-11-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 18:16:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7902802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/pseuds/dragonspell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>15 year old Dean in the shower, discovering new things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody Should Do It

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from Livejournal 8-28-16.

**Title:** Everybody Should Do It  
**Author:** [](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/)**dragonspell**  
**Series:** Supernatural  
**Pairing:** Dean (and OMC)  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** Underage content (Dean's 15). Masturbation. Pre-series.  
**Summary:** 15 year old Dean in the shower, discovering new things.  
_Dad’s not due back until next week and Sammy’s fast asleep in his bed. I know he is—I checked three times already. He’s got school tomorrow so I made him go to bed early even though he bitched and whined about it. He needs his sleep and that’s the excuse I’m keeping and not that I…well. So sue me. I made my little brother go to sleep early so I could have a little quality time for myself. If anyone asks, I’m just taking a long shower._  
**Word Count:** 2410  
**A/N:** A companion fic (in a loose way) to [Everybody Does It](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/118027.html%22). Can stand alone, though.

  
Dad’s not due back until next week and Sammy’s fast asleep in his bed. I know he is—I checked three times already. He’s got school tomorrow so I made him go to bed early even though he bitched and whined about it. He needs his sleep and that’s the excuse I’m keeping and not that I…well. So sue me. I made my little brother go to sleep early so I could have a little quality time for myself.

If anyone asks, I’m just taking a long shower. Because that’s exactly what I’m doing if I don’t have to mention any details. Back in elementary school and junior high, guys used to murmur in corners about doing this. Then there’d always be a horrified whisper about how it caused blindness and unnatural hair growth. I’d always laughed and set them straight ‘cause I’d already had that awkward talk with Dad the last time I’d walked into his bedroom without knocking. I really don’t know who was more traumatized, him or me, but I do know that the worst part wasn’t the actual walking in on Dad spanking it—it was his gruff, slightly embarrassed monologue about how it was ‘natural’ and how men had ‘needs’ and all that. I’d just nodded because _God_ , anything to shut him up.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t already discovered just how much my dick loved being touched way before that. I just think I hadn’t realized just how universal it seemed to be.

So now I’m in the shower because really no muss, no fuss makes it the best place to do this. Besides, Sammy’s sleeping in our room, the living room’s got a really big window (and even if I lock the door and close the curtains, I still can’t get rid of the creepy crawlies running up and down my spine) which really only left the kitchen (where Sammy could walk in at any time) and Dad’s room, which, um, no. Some things are just off-limits, even to a horny teenager. That just leaves me the bathroom, which is perfect because, as I already know, it gives me the perfect excuse. Hell, sometimes I know even Dad takes an extra long shower, so yeah. The shower’s a good place for this.

The water feels warm and wonderful on my skin and I tilt back to let the spray hit my chest and—God—tilt back farther to let it hit my dick. We’ve got great water pressure here. I shiver as I feel my dick start to harden, aching already and I just don’t have any self control—I touch it immediately. It’s nothing too serious, just a light soothing stroke to let it know that I’m well aware of the situation and I’ll treat it good.

Usually I get myself off in minutes—a benefit of being 15, I guess: to be able to come quick and often. Of course, that’s a bit of a double edge sword because it sometimes seems like I can _never_ get enough, either. Tonight, though, with Dad gone and Sammy asleep for once and, better yet, no apparent monsters around to fuck this up, I want to go slow. I want to take my time and see how long I can draw this out.

And…and there’s something I want to try. Just try. I give myself a squeeze because my dick’s ready to blow just thinking about it.

It’s not like I haven’t heard people talking before—guys joking to each other about it, others screaming it in insults. Hell, I even saw a porno of it once when I was flipping through channels of a skeezy motel that was stealing cable from its next door neighbor and so didn’t bother with things like blocks. I didn’t see much—it was just a quick glance to make sure it was definitely what I thought it was before I’d switched to a much safer channel: lesbian porn.

Wasn’t any dicks in that one. There’d been a pink dildo, but not any dicks and certainly not any dicks going into somebody’s ass.

My dick’s jumping around and I grip it hard, breathing deep. I shouldn’t be this excited about it. I’m not gay. I know I’m not. I _love_ girls. I love their tits and their pussies and I’m pretty sure that makes me straight so no, not gay. Definitely not gay.

…Just curious. ‘Cause guys wouldn’t do it if it didn’t feel good, right? I mean, who’d willingly go through it if it hurt?

I swallow and widen my stance as I give myself a firm stroke before sliding down to my balls. I touch them, gentle and slow, ‘cause I’m a bit reluctant to move on and I really don’t want to admit it. It’s not like my balls don’t like the attention, though. I love fondling them and they love me to do it. I could get myself off just by touching them and for a moment, I’m half-tempted to do just that.

But that’s not really why I made Sammy go to bed early is it?

It’s all that guy at the store’s fault. It really is. No one had a right to go around looking that—I bite my lip and moan. He musta been about twenty and he’d been built like a freaking brick shithouse, all bulging muscles busting out of his thin t-shirt with a pony-tail of long blonde hair and the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes I’ve seen on anyone, male or female. And he’d been packing. God, had he been packing and I shouldn’t have been staring but Christ, how do you not look away from something like that? I mean, I’m not gay or anything but when something like that is shoved in your face, you just have to look, right? Everybody does it, I know. They just don’t admit to it. And the guy’s jeans’d been _tight_.

He’d caught me staring though. I’d been flipping through a car mag when he’d walked up to browse the shelf next to me. I should have kept my damn eyes on the page, but no, I’d had to look up. Then my jaw’d dropped and everything’d gone a little hazy except for the fact that I was totally aware that my face was burning. It’d been shock, I’m sure, because I’m not gay and that thing’d been freaking huge. Either he must have been hard the moment he’d walked in or what he had in his pants was about the size of a boa constrictor. I’d jumped, though, when he’d chuckled and tucked his magazine under one massive bicep. “Should close your mouth,” he’d said and I’d just wanted to die. That’d been nothing, though, compared to how I felt when he’d leaned in to whisper “unless you want somebody to use it.”

I don’t quite remember what’d happened after that, but I do know it’d involved him winking before turning away to head to the register and me squeaking as I’d dropped the magazine and fled. I couldn’t get home fast enough and thank God the house was only two blocks away from the store. I’d slammed and locked the door behind me. My face wouldn’t stop burning and my dick had been hard for reasons I really hadn’t wanted to think about. It was from the exercise, I’m sure. All I’d known was how badly I wanted to unzip my jeans and come right there, leaning against the front door. Though stupid-ass Sammy’d immediately looked up from his homework and had started whining that he was hungry and “please Dean can we have mac and cheese tonight?” Christ. It was enough to make a guy scream. And not in a good way.

So I’d made the little bitch his mac and cheese and then made him go to bed early. That’s why I’m here taking a shower at freaking eleven o’clock at night though the only thing dirty about me is my filthy, filthy mind.

I’m not gay. Just curious.

I nod and push my hand between my legs and behind my balls. At the first touch against my ass, I jump and bring my hand straight back out, terrified and turned on at the same time. It’d…it’d felt kind of good. I think. I cuss myself out for being a cowardly virgin—something I haven’t been for a year and a half, thank you, Sarah Thompson—and shove a finger into my mouth. There’s no use going half-way with this—either just do it or get out of the shower already and if I don’t do this now, God knows when I’ll have a chance to again.

I only have a rudimentary understanding of how this is going to work, but even I know that you have to have a little bit of lube or something to help ease the way. So I slick my finger up good.

My breath is already starting to come in deep pants before I pop my finger out of my mouth and push it between my legs again. My dick is fucking drool for it like a dog begging for a treat but I ignore it and press my wet finger against my hole. The muscle flutters against my finger and I’ve got to admit, it feels better than I thought it would. It feels fucking fantastic, actually. So I take another breath and start to push it in.

It’s not as hard as I’d thought it would be though what I was expecting, I’m not sure. It’s not like my ass is a steel fortress or anything—shit comes out all the time, right? So what’s one finger compared to some of the dumps I’ve taken? I wince and try to shove all thoughts of shit and where exactly my finger is at the moment out of my head.

My ass feels tight on my finger, though—just the outer ring of muscle—and I deliberately clench down just to see what it feels like. God, _much_ better than I thought it would. I push in deeper, moaning and even kind of eager because fuck if I’m not getting off on how freaking dirty this is.

I push it in and out a little, just playing at a full-fledged pretend and yeah, that kind of feels good too. It feels a little weird, kind of like I’m taking a shit and yet kind of not, but I decide I like it. Doesn’t hurt that my dick is screaming that it likes it too. So I thrust in hard and _Christ_ , but that feels good. Guys that think this is a bad thing have obviously never done it before…

With a really unmanly whimper, I lean forward, bracing myself against the shower wall as I start fucking my finger in and out of myself. God, it’s good. _So_ damn good. And even though I know it’s crossing the line, I can’t help but think about the guy earlier today.

He’d be good—I know he would be. I’d be trying to pretend that I’ve totally done this before but he’d be able to see right through me—give me what I need. He’d put me on my back first to blow me good and sweet, just giving me a taste… I rest my forehead against the shower wall and use my free hand to fist a wet grip around my cock. Fuck yeah… Yeah, he’d be good.

Then once he’d got me ready and raring to go, he stop and chuckle knowingly at my disappointment. “Ready?” he’d ask and whether I said yes, no, or just plain didn’t answer, he’d still pull me up off the bed and put me on my knees. “Pretty little mouth,” he’d say, right before he’d push in and use me like he’d wanted to earlier today.

I get told I have a pretty mouth all the time. It’s nothing new. Girls say it right before they kiss me. Creepy guys say it right before Dad comes out of nowhere and glares. It happens. But for him, for this guy, it’d be different. I can’t help the whine coming out of my throat when I pull my hand off my dick and push two fingers into my mouth. I suck on them, pretending they’re the guy’s dick and wanting this to be so good for him.

It wouldn’t take him long before he’d be wanting the main event and he’d be dragging me up and pushing me against the wall. Christ. He’d slick me up and push in real slow just like what my finger is doing now, except it’d be bigger. A lot bigger. I whimper and thrust in harder, working my finger in and out as I pretend he’s behind me, hands bruising my hips and giving me the fucking of my life. He’d feel so good, so damned good inside me and he’d be telling me how much he liked it. I bite off a whine, trying my damnedest to be quiet but it’s not really working—so good…

I press in extra deep and curl my finger and my eyes open wide as my knees buckle because I’m coming all over the damn wall. My hips jerk convulsively as I try to ride it out while I gasp and shudder and just generally lose my damned mind. “Jesus fucking _Christ_ ,” I whisper because what the fuck was that?! I whimper into the bathtub tile as I crook my finger again and electric sparks shoot up and down my spine and out of my dick. _God_. My dick jerks again, a second stream of come wrenching painfully out of it and I pull my finger out of my ass.

Oh goddamned…

I lie there, breathing heavy as I try so hard to reboot my brain. I’m not sure what the hell just happened, but I’m pretty sure I liked it. Who knew? Really? That was…fucking amazing, that’s what that was.

Right then and there I decide that all the guys who sling insults about doing this kind of thing are fucking crazy. Because who _wouldn’t_ want to do that? I mean, I’m not gay but I just enjoyed the HELL out of that…

I think back to the guy I’d just creamed myself fantasizing about and amend my last statement. Okay. So maybe I’m bi. With a strong leaning towards girls.

Right?  



End file.
